Holy Sonnet 10: Death, Be Not Proud
John Donne
1572 to 1631
Track 1
Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. You can also print out the jumbled poem to cut up and reassemble in the classroom. Either way, take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.
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And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.